Reborn: The story of Carlisle and Esme
by cityinthestars
Summary: Carlisle first meets Esme when she's 16 and has a broken leg. They part, until her dying body is brought to him in Ashland hospital, Wisconsin. Will he save her by changing her into an immortal? And if he does, what will Edward think?


**Columbus, Ohio. 17 March, 1911.**

**CARLISLE**

I slid the newly completed patient record neatly on top of the stack on my wooden desk. I focussed on the word 'deceased', watching the ink as it dried infinitesimally, solidifying on the yellowing paper. I sighed. So far, it had not been a good shift. Treating people was intensely rewarding but some days I was able to do more good than others. Today had been slow; a lot of death, a lot of pain, none of which I was able to remedy. It was extremely frustrating that I couldn't just work the 20 hour shifts I was physically capable of. I could be saving more lives but my desired working hours could not be deemed 'normal' alongside my human counterparts.

I heard the approach before she spoke the words, which gave me enough time to lay the fountain pen next to the stack of paper and grab my copy of _Principia Ethica_.  
"Dr. Cullen?" a small voice called hesitantly from outside the office door. I shifted my weight in the chair to a position a human would have found relaxing, opened the book at random and composed my face into an expression of concentration.  
"Please, come in."

Nurse Maple cautiously opened the heavy oaken door and peered across the panelled room towards me, her eyes widening slightly as they filled with an image of me. She stared as if in shock and it almost sounded like she'd stopped breathing. I waited as patiently as I could manage for her to recover from the somewhat exasperating reaction. I'd been working alongside her in this hospital for almost six years and had hoped that with time, she would start seeing me in the same way she saw the other doctors. Apparently this was not to be.

She edged uneasily into the office and stood just in front of my desk, nervously fidgeting with the sleeves of her navy blue cardigan.  
"I'm sorry to disturb you, Doctor." she muttered apologetically, her eyes flickering to the book in my hands. "I know you're on your break but a young girl has just been admitted. She's badly hurt her leg and her parents travelled with her all day to get here. Will you see her? I can ask Dr. Blackthorn if you'd prefer…"

"That's entirely unnecessary, Nurse. Of course I'd be happy to see them immediately. Please show me the way." I insisted firmly. This time her wits remained and as I rose from my desk, she turned to leave. I followed her bouncing auburn hair out of the office, relieved to be free of the monotonous shackles of my human charade. Taking breaks when you didn't need them simply to avoid suspicion was utterly wasteful, but also equally necessary.

Tonight the long, dingy corridor that was often used as a spill out for the main waiting area was empty. It was almost twilight - not a popular time for general hospital visits. I could make out the hushed voices before we turned the corner but I tried not to listen to their conversation. The waiting room was expansive, painted a dull white and was scattered with beige wooden chairs. The room was empty except for an elderly couple sat in the far corner and the family of three who were occupying the very centre. As I took in the scene in front of me, I frowned slightly. The greying father was dressed in a once-smart brown suit but the heavy work boots, lathered in dried mud, gave him away. A farmer, I guessed. The mother wore a long and flowing white gown with delicate white shoes. She was almost immaculate. Her thick, golden hair was piled elegantly on top of her head but I could see that the stressful day had taken its toll. Strands of hair were curled haphazardly around her neck and her cheeks were flushed an indignant crimson red. They whispered furiously at each other while they studied the young girl sat between them.

The girl was sitting poker straight, arms crossed, staring determinedly at the grey tiles on the floor in front of her. Her right leg was bare and propped up under a cushion, resting on a rickety chair. I could already see the unnatural angle of it. Bruises were seeping up through the fair skin and bloody cuts scattered her knee. The blood should have made my throat and senses explode with an intense burning and hunger. Something deep inside me crawled at the sight of it. I pushed the thoughts from my mind and consciously forced my eyes from her leg to her face.

Her delicate features were pushed into a scowl, her bottom lip pouting out unhappily. With my unnaturally good sight I could make out the dried tears that had washed down her cheeks. Long and glossy caramel coloured hair spilled down her shoulders, framing her heart-shaped face. The strikingly pretty colour of her hair accented the dirtiness I could now see staining her checked dress, which was stained with grass and mud. She looked very unhappy. She must have been in a great deal of pain.

"This is Dr. Carlisle Cullen, he'll see you now." announced Nurse Maple. The mother eyed me with agitation, clearly not affected by my appearance the way the nurse always was. Why couldn't they all react like that?

The mother spoke first and her words came out in a rush. "Thank heavens, a Doctor! We've been travelling all day to find one. We think our daughter has broken her leg. She was climbing a tree – only the Lord knows why – and she fell out. I do wonder about our little Esme's sanity at times…"

I glanced at Esme in time to see her scowl again. She was still determinately staring at the floor and clearly didn't like being referred to as "our little Esme". She must have been at least 16.  
"Don't worry, Mrs…?"  
"Mrs. Platt"  
"Well, Mrs. Platt, we'll have Esme on her feet again in no time."

The very moment I'd said her name, Esme's little head had snapped up to assess her doctor for the first time. At first she'd simply looked. But gradually her deep blue eyes had widened and I heard a breath stick audibly in her throat. Her delicate pink lips slowly curved themselves into a tiny "o". I coughed and hastily looked back up to her parents, not wanting to give away their daughter's reaction. While I spoke to the nurse about arranging a room for me to treat Esme in, another part of my mind was already analysing the curious differences in her reaction to me. It was not what I'd come to expect. The nurses stared at me unknowingly, as if they were utterly dazed and didn't know why. The reason behind that was simple. It was their humanity reacting to the immortal's secret weapons – the scent, the appearance, the dominance. But Esme's reaction confused me. Her eyes were focussed. She was still staring, I could feel it, but she was doing so knowingly. It didn't feel like an automatic reaction, it felt like a choice. No doubt a teenage crush but still, the controlled reaction was unusual. I filed the thoughts away for study later on.

I took several paces towards her and slowly looked down into her eyes again. Yes, she was still staring.  
"Shall we?" I asked, holding out my arm. She looked at it for a long moment and I heard her heart thump noticeably harder in her chest. I stopped myself from sighing. Yes, it was a teenage crush and that was all. If only she knew what I really was. How her expression would change then.

She reached for my arm and I cringed internally, waiting for the slight jolt when she felt how cold and hard my arm was through my white coat, but she didn't flinch. She grabbed my shoulder and arm tightly and continued to look at me steadily with wide, probing eyes and a racing heart.

I helped her up and all but carried her to the room across to the hall. Her parents fussed over her continually, asking if they could help, reprimanding her again for climbing a tree in the first place, wondering how the injury would affect her attending school. She was polite and kind to them, but I could see that she was somewhat uncomfortable with the attention and my instincts kicked in almost automatically. I very carefully eased her up onto the soft, padded examining table and quietly said in a low voice that only she could hear,  
"Would you like me to treat you alone?"  
She gulped and nodded very slightly, which made her hair gleam golden brown in the flicker of the overhanging artificial lights. I whirled around abruptly and stood looking down at her parents. I must have been 5 inches taller than both of them. They stopped bickering in an instant and I vaguely hoped that I hadn't frightened them.  
"Would you be so kind as to wait in the area through there?" I asked, pointing back to the waiting room. It looked as though Mrs. Platt was about to argue but her husband put a firm arm around her shoulders, turned her on the spot and began heading in the direction of my gaze.

I softly closed the door behind me and turned around. Again, she was staring but this time from the table. I wasn't actually sure that she'd taken her eyes from me once since she'd first seen me. Now she was more comfortable with her parents gone it was back to business, I thought severely. I began collecting the cleaning instruments, antiseptic lotion, bandages and splints for her leg and placed them on the stand next to her. She sat and watched me quietly as I gently examined the damage to her leg, appraising the work that needed doing.

"I'm afraid it's broken. I'll clean the wounds and then put your leg in a splint. You'll need crutches until it heals. It could have been much worse…" I stated. There was no reaction. I began cleaning the smallest of her cuts with antiseptic which would have made a prouder man flinch but yet again, there was nothing. It was as if she wasn't there. I wondered briefly whether her parents had given her a home remedy for the pain. I could feel her eyes fixed stubbornly on my face. I'd try to keep this professional - I'd give her my best bedside manner.  
"So Esme Platt, have you taken anything for the pain?"

She'd jumped slightly when I'd said her name but otherwise, again there was no reaction. I hesitantly looked up at her and this time she was staring into the distance with shell-shocked blue eyes. I slowly put down the antiseptic wipe – I didn't want to startle her, and looked her square in the face. I put my arm on her shoulder and squeezed it gently.  
"Esme" I said soothingly, attempting to wake her from her reverie. She started again and shifted her eyes to mine with mild comprehension.  
"Esme, are you alright?"  
She gulped, focussed her eyes and mumbled in a small voice "Yes, thank you Doctor."  
"You're going to be fine." I said and smiled at her with every particle of warmth I could find in my body, hoping to reassure and relax her. As I watched, her cheeks filled with a beautiful peachy red. She was blushing. My insides squirmed at the pleasure of watching the warm blood rush to her cheeks and I almost forcefully picked up the antiseptic lotion and pads and began cleaning once more. My reassuring smile usually had a soothing effect on patients but my usual bedside manner didn't appear to be doing any good with this girl. I decided to try another tactic.

"So, you're training to join the circus?" I joked, hoping this would have the desired effect. I was not disappointed. She giggled then. It was a soft, heartfelt sound. Her voice rang out much clearer than it had before, more confident. Perhaps my smile had worked after all.  
"No, I just like the outdoors and the fields surrounding my home. There's one tree in particular. It's… _my_ place. When it all gets a bit much" and her eyes wandered to the waiting room, "I like to sit there and watch the world go by. You can see for miles." she added softly.

I looked up, slightly startled by the unexpected maturity of her words and she giggled again at the shock she read on my face. I studied her through newly appraising eyes. She was beautiful. There were still child-like qualities to her face but there was no doubt she was well into the process of becoming a woman. Her powder blue eyes tinkled with amusement, forgetting her awkward shyness. When she'd giggled her dimples had shown themselves for the first time and I noticed she had a light sprinkle of freckles running across her tear-stained cheeks and nose. Yes, she was beautiful. Suddenly I realised that now I was the one staring, and hastily continued fixing her bandages in place. I mentally shook myself. What did it matter if she was beautiful? She was a patient, she was barely sixteen, and… It didn't matter how many lives I saved or how many good deeds I did. I was a monster, possibly a soulless one at that. I needed to pull myself together, this was ridiculous. Oh right, and I still needed to respond to her explanation.

"It's good that you have that" I said slowly. "We all need time alone, time to think." I hoped she'd missed the bitterness that had crept into my words as I'd said them. All I had was time alone. All I had was time to think. And I was a soulless monster.

She continued unaffected.  
"Don't get me wrong. I love my parents, more than anything. I know they only worry because they care and I_ try_ to make them proud. But sometimes…" she hesitated. "Sometimes, I worry that I'll never be enough." Sadness seeped through her voice and I instantly forgot all my bitterness and self-loathing. I had a strong urge to comfort her. A kind, innocent girl like Esme should not have to feel such sadness.  
"They're already proud of you, anyone can see that." I assured her. "You _are_ enough. You'll find something in life that you love, something that will make you happy, and that will make them happy too."

She eyed me through heavy lashes, her heart pounding in her chest. I looked down quickly and decided to get on with business. I should not encourage her teenage notions. I was here to fix her leg, not to comfort her. When had I become a counsellor? I sighed, already knowing the answer. I was a doctor of science but I couldn't stand any suffering, whether it be physical or emotional. I knew I would help her in which ever way she needed me to.

The air was thick with antiseptic but I didn't mind. It diluted the smell of blood. Now that I'd cleaned and covered the cuts, I started work on the splints. I needed to concentrate in order to fix them in place properly and to apply the correct amount of pressure, but my mind still roamed. I found myself wishing my spacious mind could only concentrate on one thing at once.

As I taped up the last bandage holding the splint in place, I could feel her eyes still lingering on my face. The self-disgust washed over me stronger than before, stronger than it had in a long time. This young girl was being taken in by my immortal snares. If she only knew the truth - she'd run a mile. Anyone would. She deserved someone kind, someone good, someone who would take care of her. Someone who could fill their hearts, their head and their soul with endless love for her. Suddenly a vision flashed through my mind, shaking me to my core. I tried to suppress it but it was playing out in my head before I had time. I was 17 and human. I tried with every ounce of energy I possessed to fulfil the criteria – I tried to be good, kind and caring enough. I loved Esme Platt and I took take care of her to the very best of my ability. I saw the beauty in her like no one else could. I would have picked a falling star from the sky if she had asked me for it. Our eternities stretched out before us, entwined and never ending, together always. Together forever.

"Doctor, what's wrong?" came her sweet voice. The dream shattered as quickly as it had entered my head but the feeling remained strong in my chest, burning my lungs. I took a deep breath, steadying myself. Breathing helped now the blood was gone. Slowly, I shifted my eyes down to hers which were looking up at me, brightest blue and full of concern.

"I'm… lonely." I croaked. I didn't know where this outburst had come from, or what had made me say it but I instantly regretted it. What was I doing? She was a patient. Not only were these thoughts completely inappropriate but I should not be admitting my darkest yearnings to her. It was just wrong.

But for a moment I forgot about that. I forgot the morals and the ethics. I stood there, simply Carlisle Cullen. Nothing more than a lonely, broken man who needed something more from the world. I stared in shock, utterly bewildered, as her hand reached up to my check and stroked the skin there gently. I cringed internally again at her inevitable flinch at the coldness of my skin, but it didn't come. Again she did not mind. I tried to remember the last time anyone had touched me out of choice. I came up blank.

When she spoke, it was in the softest of whispers.  
"I'm sorry. You're a good man. I know you'll find what you're looking for. I know you'll find peace in this world yet."

And illogically, for the smallest part of a second while I was trapped in her gaze, I believed her. I believed her to my core. I so wanted it to be true. But how could it be? The realisation that I was alone stung painfully through my body. I would never find a companion or a true friend in this vast world. Even if I found other vampires, I'd never met one that didn't drink human blood. I couldn't survive alongside blood-drinkers – their lifestyle choices made things somewhat tricky (I knew, I'd witnessed it first hand). There wasn't another immortal in all the world like me. No, surely I was on this path alone.

I looked down at the kind girl once more, and my heart filled with good wishes for her. Whoever she found, I hoped they made her happy, as happy as she deserved. There _was_ still goodness in the world and little Esme Platt embodied it all.  
"Thank you, Esme." I said simply, and I meant it.

I wasn't quite sure what had just happened, but suddenly I was sure it was wrong and I desperately needed to get out of the tiny, claustrophobic room. My chest felt as though the walls were folding in around me faster every second. I needed this to end and I needed to end it quickly. It had all gotten very out of hand. I skimmed over the surface where Nurse Maple had already laid out Esme's new crutches and I carried them to her. I concentrated with great difficulty on what I was doing and tried my hardest not to look into her eyes while I showed her how to use them. When I lifted her from the examining table and down to the crutches, I tried to keep as much physical distance from her as I could. She tried them out and said they were fine. Cold and professional, cold and professional. And that was it. It was over.

I opened the door and started walking back towards the waiting room when I realised she wasn't following me. I didn't want to turn around. I knew I would see pain in her eyes from my sudden coldness and I couldn't stand the thought of it. But it would no doubt be worse if I didn't make her feel better before she left. The good, kind girl deserved that at least. Why should she have to suffer with hurt feelings at the hands of me? Very slowly I turned around and almost groaned as I saw that the damage done was worse than I'd expected. A tear glistened in the corner of her eye and she looked at me as though I'd just broken her heart. I couldn't bear it. I moved towards her slowly and deliberately.

"You're going to be fine" I said, flashing her the most reassuring smile I could muster. I prayed she wouldn't see through it as I knew couldn't do any better. She gazed at me thoughtfully, weighing up my words. Something seemed to click in her mind because the sadness in her expression cleared and the soft, childish glow returned. She lightly eased herself up towards my face using the new wooden crutches until she was very close to my right ear and whispered, only to me, "So are you." And then she pulled away slightly and smiled the most penetratingly beautiful and heart-lifting smile I'd seen in more than 250 years. In a distant part of my mind I heard myself wondering whether it were possible for an old vampire's heart to start beating in his chest again.

I couldn't help but return her smile, although mine lacked the same level of accompanying sincerity and grace. I patiently helped her limp back to her parents. While they thanked me more than was necessary and said their farewells, Esme didn't take her eyes from me once.  
"Thank you, Doctor." she said quietly just before she turned to leave. Then she said something under her breath only to herself, something she didn't know I'd be able to hear. She simply said "Be at peace." Her eyes burned into mine for a long moment, and then she was gone. My mind had not fully digested her words, so I tried not to think of them. I watched her and her parents as they struggled out of the door and along the road outside the hospital. I listened to them for several minutes until they moved out of hearing-range.

I didn't know exactly how the last hour had happened, but I knew I needed to compose myself. I strode along the dingy corridor once more, desperately trying to keep to a normal human pace. As I entered my office I closed the door behind me and sat down behind my desk. I clamped my eyes shut, raised my fingers to my temples and drank in deep, submersive breaths to calm myself.

The self-loathing, I was expecting. The crashing realisation that I would never find a companion, love, or any real meaning to my existence, I was fully prepared for. What I didn't expect was the only thing that filled my heart and my head. It was the image of beautiful, innocent Esme Platt, smiling her heartfelt, reassuring smile. I couldn't explain why the words and kindness of a stranger had comforted me so. I knew I would never see her again – I was moving away from Columbus in little over a month. But remembering that someone, _anyone _believed as she did, that I would find solace and meaning in this barren world, lit a beacon of hope inside my chest. It glowed faintly, fighting for survival in the darkness. I consciously brightened the image of her omniscient smile in my mind's eye and as I did, the beauty of it shot through the rest of my body, scorching my insides. I had been momentarily stunned into hopeful belief by a young girl (or was she a mortal angel?), who had somehow delivered peace to a lost, crumbling man. And so, that was the moment I believed in my heart for the first time in several centuries that almost impossibly, every word she'd spoken had been the truth.


End file.
